Tuesday, September 9, 2014

Prime Directive No. 4: Always shoot bandits in the head. Also be awesome. F-YEAH ROBOTICS!

Setting: Bison Steve's Casino.  
Interior. 2nd floor.  
Lost in time, surrounded by evil, low on gas.

Wait.  Nix that last part, that's Army of Darkness.  Anyways.  Beagle'n me, we're gonna go upstairs and mop up a few bad guys in today's installment, so that the good folks of Primm have a few less terrible waking nightmares to worry about.

What they still need to worry about:

  • Radiation poisoning from virtually everything ever.
  • Giant mutated wildlife.
  • OTHER bandits.
  • The crushing weight of their own existence in a post-nuclear world.
Well nobody said it'd be easy.

I don't play around.

Aww yeah.  Take it.  Take it.  TAKE IIIIIIIIIIT.  Goin' through these convicts like Doritos!  OM NOM NOM wait what wa---

Goddamnit Beagle.

Sonova-- Damnit Beagle.  I told you to stay close.  Siiiiiiigh.  Oh well.  I GUESS I'll keep killing convicts so that Primm's safe still, now that its lost its sheriff AND deputy.

I can only dream of going out this way.

Now that's going out with style.  in a bathtub, chock full of crazy ass drugs and booze, tripping balls.  I can only hope to go out that way, or maybe fist-fighting a bear, nude in the woods in the dead of winter.  The remaining convicts are dispatched, and the Bison Steve becomes forever more a grizzly tomb filled with one deputy and some convicts, stripped of all their valuable earthly possessions because I got bills to pay.

Time to go give Nash and the rest of Primm's huddled masses in the Vicki & Vance the bad news; but first a quick stop at the Mojave Express!

Batteries not included

Having picked up exactly what's required (And then some, due to my thieving ways!) I decide it's time to jam these parts into this robot's guts and to hell with the consequences!  If its evil, I'll just shoot it dead again!  I mean it's that easy, right?  That's how these games work; hooray for a moral compass!

"Come with me if you want to live vicariously and go to Vegas."

Hooray!  ED-E, pronounced 'Eddie' liiiiiiiiiiiiiives!  He chirps à la R2-D2 (pronounced Artoo Deetoo.  Blech) And shoots red-hot lasers of Conclave DEAAAAAAAAAATH at my enemies.  He also plays a little attack song and victory music at the start and end of combat because he's so adorable that way.  Hooray I made a friend!  SO HAPPY!

"Get busy gamblin' or get busy dyin'.  Your choice."

Well Nash took the news relatively well; also complimented on fixin' up ED-E.  Says I can keep him! WOO!  Thing is, I now HAVE to find a replacement for Primm, since I kinda got the last guy who represented the law (Barely, by Beagle's own admission) in town, shot dead.

Nash gives me a few leads; firstly the NCR have a guy in the outpost just outside of town, who's a straight shootin' stand up guy.   Downside is then Primm would be under NCR law, which some of the locals wouldn't take too kindly to.  NCR aren't some jackbooted thugs, but they're not necessarily pleasant either.  Its all for the greater good of a Republic who's capital lies far to the west, away from the blasted heat of the Mojave and its woes.

Next up is a former sheriff current convict, serving a term in the NCR Correctional Facility.  Which... is overrun and taken over by Powder Gangers right now.  Word is he's fair and just, if a bit rough on the edges, on account of killin' a man over a minor offense, thus breaking the law he enforced himself as sheriff.

If only there was another way...

"Yee haw, pard'ner!  Have y'all seen this John Connor feller?"

Primm fucking Slim.  What better sheriff for the town than the friendliest robot they done ever did see?  Like a veritable Mr. Rogers this one; except made of metal and able to fire white-hot plasma bolts from his head.  Let's see; I have a bunch of crap I took that wasn't mine, maybe it's enough to go and get'im up to code.


Alright well I guess I used up most of the parts I had to fix ED-E, and that was a winning smashing bravely dashing idea if I had to quantify it with too many words.  I'd try to science my way out of this one, but I'm short 5 skill points.  Unless...

Aaah! My subscription to "Popular Thermodynamics & Quantum Theory" is in!

Magazine articles; be my guide!  Magazines are a new addition to Fallout, as they give a +10 boost to a skill for a set time-limit, but since I only needed 5 points, this'll push me over the edge for what I needed to re-program Slim!  FUCK YEAH SCIENCE.  READIN' SHIT THEN PROGRAMMING ROBOTS.  LIKE A BOSS.


 Aaaaaaaaaand Re-Program!

THAR'S A SNAKE IN MAH BOOTDRIVE (shut up I know I did that joke already)

SUCCESS!  Primm is clearly in good hands, as in no way did I just re-purpose a robot on the fly with potentially shitty code I stole from a magazine printed before the great war.  SO.  With that settled, and a quick trip to Dep. Beagle's former abode and a rummage through his personal computer, I find out that my would-be killers came through Primm, and at last mention were overheard heading towards Novac through Nipton.  WELL THEN.  ONWARDS!

At the Police Station: graffiti or mission statement?

Oh man, the local highway patrol office is full of bandits out to kill first and ask questions never.  Its' just like regular police, AMIRITE?  (No but for real folks; police brutality is no joke, and everybody should be held accountable for their actions.  Especially those who shoot unarmed kids screaming they give up and have their hands in the air.  End /Rant)

Vulgar messages and bandits aside (outside) hailing from the I-95 Vipers gang, which I don't know, they mainly stalk the I-95 interstate?  OK?  Whatever.

Let's have a look inside:

The Post-Apocalyptic version of Popsicle Pete points.

Well looky-there; another star-cap!  It's like those games that force you to collect special unique items that serve no purpose other than being a collectible, as to get an achievement!  Who'da thunk.

I wonder what the corpse has on 'im...


ABSINTHE.  And some beer, and a caravan shotgun (the Over/Under variety too).  Score.  Nothing says a party like strong liquor and firearms.  2 out of 3 of the ATF's most wanted list; let's see if we can't make it a hat trick.


DING DING DING.  Full carton of smokes behind the bench in the drunk tank.  Cigarettes in this game aren't consumable; but they are valuable.  Bartering becomes the lifeblood of commerce in the Mojave wastes, so when you can't always give up your caps, sometimes a carton of Marlboro Light 100s and a case of beer will swing a deal your way, leaving you with enough caps to take the shuttle back to Freeside.

Let's go check that convenience store / gas station down the road...



Off in the middle-distance...

Neat.  A large monument of two gigantic statue-men, shaking hands off in the distance.  Nipton & Novac can wait for a bit, this is probably interesting!

Mojave, Mo' Problems.

Or not.  Its the NCR Mojave Outpost at the border.  This is the western-most point in the game.  If I were to press forward in that direction, I'd hit one of those invisible game-walls waaaaay past the buildings where the chain-link fences are.  If the game would let me go that way, I'd be heading into Fallout 1/2 territory, specifically Vaults 15 & 13 and The Hub, as well as Shady Sands, and San Francisco.  But we can't go there so, no reason to run against that wall.  (Maybe there's a user-made Mod that adds in all that.  Some people go NUTS with this stuff.  Like they rebuilt Morrowind or Oblivion in their entirety within the Skyrim engine, its bananas.)

But first, let me take a selfie.

Well, we'll rest up at the Outpost, me and ED-E before takin' off towards Nipton and Novac, in our quest to find the man that shot my pa.

And by pa I mean head.  The asshole who shot my head.  Mine.  To kill me.  Make me dead.  With murderous intent.


PS.  Any comments/suggestions/trolling feel free to drop'em below, I ain't gon' judge!

1 comment:

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